Gaza
by Muffins and Bagels
Summary: This is my take on episodes 5x21 (Gaza) and 5x22 (Memorial Day). It follows Josh as he flies to Germany to see Donna after the attack, but I have added a few scenes that I think could have/should have happened, even though we didn't see them.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Josh Lyman returned his seat to its upright position and flexed his shoulder blades, trying to work the kink out of his back. He was used to taking long flights. It was in the job description when you were the Deputy Chief of Staff to the President of the United States. But he usually worked or slept to pass the time. This time he couldn't do either of those things. He had tried to work, but after unsuccessfully reading the same paragraph on school vouchers five time he finally gave up and turned off his laptop, thinking he would try to get some sleep; although he suspected that if the paper on vouchers hadn't put him to sleep, nothing would.

"_We need to kill them! We need to find them and to kill them! We kill them, then we find out who sent them and kill them, too! You kill the people who did it, you kill the people who planned it, and then you kill everyone who was happy about it!"_

Josh flinched, as he remembered those tense moments outside the Oval Office, the way everyone had been staring at him as if he had just suggested painting the White House magenta. He still didn't think his proposal to carpet bomb the entire Middle East had been that unreasonable. He couldn't remember feeling this angry since he had exploded in the Oval office just before Christmas three years ago, but that had been due to the PTSD he suffered from after getting shot at Rosslyn. This time there was no five-piece orchestra playing in his head. Just her voice. Over and over again.

"_I just want to grow in my job. I only have one career and I want it to matter." _

And now she was lying in a hospital in Germany, in critical condition, losing blood. The thought of blood made Josh's stomach swoop and he forced himself to stop thinking about it. What was it Leo had told him?

"_We've got excellent people in Germany."_

That had become his mantra. He recited it over and over in his head to combat the thoughts of "significant blood loss issues."

Josh didn't even realize he had been drumming his fingers on the armrest until one of the stewardesses came to check on him.

"Sir, is everything alright?" she asked cautiously. He must have looked as nervous as he felt.

"Wha? . . Yeah. Yep. Just a little . . . you know." When she didn't say anything he added, "Can I get some coffee or something?"

"Maybe you should try to get some sleep," she suggested. "Especially if you are nervous about flying. I can bring you a pillow if you'd like."

Seriously? Who was this lady and since when were stewardesses qualified to give advice about . . . well, anything other than how to buckle your seat-belt and locate the nearest emergency exit? "Just the coffee will be fine," he replied. She looked at him critically before walking away.

He wished he had ordered himself a good strong sedative. With all the adrenaline coursing through his system, it was no wonder he couldn't relax. That, and every time he closed his eyes he saw the footage from MSNBC, the smashed SUV, upside down in the middle of the road, still smoking from explosion, bodies being loaded into ambulances. . .

He unconsciously started drumming his fingers against the armrest again, thinking to himself that this was going to be the longest 9 hour flight of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Josh rubbed his eyes with the heals of his hands. Nine hours of no sleep and six cups of coffee later, he was finally starting to feel the effects of fatigue. He thought of what Donna would say about him drinking six cups of coffee on the flight.

"_You have a very sensitive system, I'm just saying . . " _

The thought made him smile. Until he realized he was standing outside the hospital doors. And that Donna was in there with s_ignificant blood loss issues_.

"We've got excellent people in Germany. And I am about to go meet them." He told himself before taking the stairs two at a time and entering the small military hospital.

He made it past the first checkpoint and was directed to Donna Moss's floor. He stayed focused on his quest to find his assistant, and that helped him block out the smells and sounds that were putting his nerves on edge.

Josh though of all the places in the world he would rather be than at a hospital, and realized that if it were anyone else besides Donna, he would probably be in one of those other places. But it was Donna. And he was here. He remembered a conversation they'd had a few years ago.

"_I'm just sayin' . . .If you were in an accident I wouldn't stop for a beer." _  
_"If you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for red lights." _

If there had been any red lights between Washington and Germany he hadn't noticed them. The information desk on Donna's floor was the closest thing to a red light he had encountered so far.

"I'm here to see Donna Moss. . . blonde, American. She was in a car accident . . . explosion . . . thing . . . the guy downstairs said I should come here." Josh flashed his drivers licence and White House ID.

"Are you family?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

"I'm her boss."

The receptionist pursed her lips. "She is just getting out of surgery, Mr. Lyman. I'll let her doctor know you are here and he will come give you an update as soon as he can."

"Can't you give me an update? I mean, how is she? Is she gonna be okay?" Josh didn't want to wait for red lights.

"Like I said, her doctor will be out in a minute. I can find you a seat if you'd like."

"No, I'm. . . ." Josh took a deep breath and let it out, "I'm good." He started to pace back and forth in front of the desk. "You're sure you can't tell me anything?"

But the receptionist wasn't even paying attention. Josh wanted to do what he always did when circumstances beyond his control were not cooperating: yell for his assistant. Somehow, no matter how impossible the situation, she always got things done. He should have told her that. He should have given her a pay raise. He should have quite sabotaging all her dates with guys that weren't good enough for her. Well, maybe not that last part. He could never understand why she insisted on going out with local gomers when she should be dating . . .? She worked in the freakin White House, for crying out loud! No. Sabotaging her relationships was for her own good, at least until she found someone worth dating.

Josh's phone was ringing. He expected it to be CJ or Toby or Leo, but was surprised to see "S. Seaborn" and a california area code flash across the screen.

"Sam?"

"Josh?"

"Sam! Long time, no see? How's the Sunshine State been treatin' ya?"

"How do you think? Listen, I heard about Donna."

"Yeah. Yeah, she's just getting out of surgery now and no one will TELL ME ANYTHING." That last part had been directed at the tight-lipped receptionist who was now thumbing through files and talking on the phone. "I meet with the President of the United States in the Oval Office on a daily basis, but I can't get a simple update on the condition of my assistant."

"Josh, where are you?"

"Germany."

"Germany?! You're in Germany?"

"Yeah."

"To see Donna?"

"Yeah."

"You flew to Germany to see Donna?"

"So?"

"So . . . Does she know?"

"That I'm here? No. I told you, she just got out of surgery."

"That's not what I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean . . . look, Josh, everyone in that building, CJ and Toby and Leo and Charlie, everyone knows Donna is more than just your secretary."

"I know, she's my assistant. And I'm trying to let her grow in her job, play more of a role in the policy making and politics -"

"- no, that's not what I mean, either. Josh, look where you're standing. Do you think it's normal to fly halfway around the world because your _assistant_ is in the hospital?"

"Military hospital. And . . . she is my . . .we're . . . She was in an explosion! Someone tried to blow her up! Are you saying I shouldn't be here?"

"No. I'm just saying. Look where you're standing."

"Buddy, I think you've been getting too much sun. Donna is . . . Donna. She brings me coffee - well, no she doesn't, but she works for me. She's my assistant. The deputy, deputy chief of staff."

"Okay."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just . . . Just keep me posted, okay?"

"Yeah."

"And tell Donna I say "feel better soon."

"You were a speechwriter for the President of the United States and all you can come up with is "feel better soon"?

"It was short notice."

"Yeah, okay. Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah."

"It was good talkin' to you."

"Yeah. You, too."

Josh hung up his phone and leaned heavily against the wall.

_Do you think it's normal to fly halfway around the world because your assistant is in the hospital?_

Of course it was. This was Donna, they were talking about. She would have maxed out her accounts and flown here in a heartbeat if it had been him in that SUV. The SUV with the smashed windows and smoking tires, laying upside down on in the middle of the road. With people being put in ambulances.

Josh started pacing again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

(Note: this is straight out of the episode - almost word for word)

"Mr. Lyman?"

"Yeah." A young doctor in a white lab coat was walking toward him. The kid couldn't be older than 30.

"I'm Colonel Leahy. I operated on Miss Moss."

"For what exactly? I'm a little behind the curve."

"She came in with a multiple compound fracture and a pneumothorax."

"Sorry, I . . ." Josh was surprised at how calm he felt, despite the circumstances.

"Uh, collapsed lung, broken thighbone."

"Collapsed lung? That's no biggie, right?" Josh was sure he had heard of people living through collapsed lungs all the time.

"We suctioned the air from the pleural cavity by chest tube," Colonel Leahy said casually.

"Really, 'cause that sounds a little . . ."

"No biggie." He smiled reassuringly. "The lung should re-expand within 48 to 72 hours."

"And the broken leg?" Josh probed tentatively.

"A compound fracture is one that protrudes through the skin."

"Uh-huh." Josh grimaced, staring off into space and trying not to picture that in his head. This was the part he had been dreading.

"And this was a multiple, so that means. . . "

"Yeah, got it. I got it." He cut the doctor off, feeling his stomach start to roll.

"Are you alright?"

"I get a little queasy." He stated. Colonel Leahy was looking at him like he was an 8 year old girl, so he added, "Plus, the . . . you know. . . jet lag." Josh wasn't sure he bought it, but he continued.

"In any event, the main fracture repairs went well. We inserted a metal rod through the bone."

And that did it. The blood drained from his face and he closed his eyes leaning over to put his hands on his knees. "Okay." He wasn't sure if he wanted to pass out or throw up. Maybe both. Damn his sensitive system.

"You wanna sit?" The doctor sounded concerned.

Josh took a deep breath, concentrating on keeping his stomach contents where they belonged. "I'm . . . I'm fine." He pushed thoughts of broken bones and bloody lacerations out of his mind and waited for his stomach to settle. "So she's gonna be okay?" he asked still hanging upside down.

Colonel Leahy bent down to Josh's level. "At the moment I'm more worried about you."

"I'm good." Josh stood back up as proof. When the doctor didn't look convinced he repeated it quietly. "I'm good."

Colonel Leahy nodded, although still looked skeptical. "Well, we'll want to perform some Doppler studies, ensure no clots have formed. Recovery from the pneumothorax may take several weeks. The fracture, months of physical therapy."

Weeks? Months? Josh blinked. Okay. At least she was still alive.

"Great." Josh replied. Colonel Leahy looked slightly confused until Josh followed up with, "I mean, not great, but considering . . ."

He smiled, understanding. "You can see her," he said. The taking in Josh's still slightly green complexion added, "uh, if you'd like."

Josh picked up his briefcase and coat and followed the doctor down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow! Thank so much for the reviews. I had no idea there were still people out there who love West Wing as much as I do. I am not sure how far I am going to take this story. This being my first ever fanfic, I am just trying to find my voice (and Josh's voice). I am planning on sticking pretty close to cannon and not trying to create an alternate universe where things take a happier course for Josh and Donna, but I really like the idea of adding in extra scenes that I feel are compatible with cannon (i.e. the phone call from Sam in chapter 2). Anyway, here is the next chapter. Enjoy.**

Chapter 4

As they approached the door to Donna's room, Colonel Leahy stopped and turned around.

"You sure you can handle this? You still look a little . . ."

Josh wasn't sure of anything. He hated hospitals. He hated the sterile smell and the repetitive beeping of monitors, but mostly he hated how they reminded him of Rosslyn. Blood and guts aside, it was the constant reminders everywhere he looked that were making him light headed and nauseated. But he hadn't come this far to give up now.

"Yeah." He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

"It sometimes takes the anesthesia a little while to wear off. She'll probably be out for a few more hours, but you're welcome to stay."

Colonel Leahy held the door open waiting for Josh to come inside. But Josh couldn't move. He could barely breathe.

Nothing could have prepared him for the scene that met him behind the door. If it wasn't for the blonde hair, he wouldn't have recognized her. She was hooked up to a series of wires that led to flashing monitors. An oxygen tube was attached to her nose and one leg was elevated. And even from the hall he could see that her face was badly bruised and cut up.

After what must have been a few seconds, or maybe a few hours, Josh found himself entering the room and cautiously approaching the bed. He was vaguely aware of Colonel Leahy leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or the lack of food, or the jet lag, or the fact that he was in a hospital, but Josh suddenly realized he was fighting back tears. She looked so . . . helpless, so fragile. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch her, to assure himself that she was really there and that she was still alive. But another part of him was afraid of breaking her.

He settled for just watching her breathe, watching her chest rise and fall. The only tangible sign that she was more than a corpse.

Suddenly it was as if everything that had happened in the last 24 hours caught up to Josh all at once. He was relieved to find a chair behind him as his legs gave way and he collapsed into it. He swallowed hard trying to ignore the burning behind his eyes and the pulse beats in his ears.

"_I just want to grow in my job. I only have one career and I want it to matter."_

"Well, Donna, look where that got you." he said quietly, more to himself than to her. He leaned forward, threading his fingers into his hair.

She wanted to go to Brussels, and Josh had sent her to Gaza. Gasa! What the hell was he thinking? He should have sent her to Rhode Island. Nobody ever got blown up on a trip to Rhode Island. But then again, she should have been safe in Gaza with Admiral Fitzwallace and a handful of congressional delegates. Nobody could have seen this coming.

Josh didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about retaliation against Palestine or Israel. He didn't want to think about the hundreds of calls he would have to make when he got back to Washington. He didn't want to think about recovery times or physical therapy or what he would do without his assistant who he had come to rely on over the last seven years. He cast about for something unrelated, something to take his mind off of everything.

Donna let out a soft groan. "Josh?"

Josh jumped to his feet, holding onto the bed railing to steady himself. Her eyes were closed and he realized she was still sleeping. He saw her body tense up and her breathing quicken. She was trying to move around, but the wires and tubes and bandages prevented it. She was panicking, probably having a nightmare. Josh remembered the nightmares that had continued to haunt him for months after being shot. He shuddered. That feeling of inescapable helplessness . . .

One of the monitors above Donna's bed started beeping. Some kind of alarm.

"Hey . . . shhhhhh." Josh reached down and carefully took her hand. He felt her fingers respond to his touch. "Shhhhhhhhh."

The door opened and a nurse walked in.

"I didn't . . . she just . . ." Josh stammered quietly as the nurse walked over to the bed. He quickly let go of Donna's hand.

"It's all right. Her body has been through a lot of trauma in the last 24 hours." said the nurse pressing a button on the side of the monitor to stop the beeping. "This is perfectly normal. I'm going to give her something to help her sleep."

She unlocked a drawer and pulled out a syringe which she injected into the IV bag. "You might want to consider getting some sleep yourself, Mr. Lyman. We can wake you if anything changes."

"I'm fine," said Josh, not taking his eyes off of Donna. He watched her face relax as the medicine kicked in.

The nurse gave Josh a pitying look before exiting the room and closing the door again.

Josh waited until he was sure Donna was asleep again before he spoke.

"Donna, I . . ." Josh stopped, unsure of what to say. I'm here? I'm sorry? I've missed you? I need you? Nothing sounded right. Josh brushed a strand of hair away from her face, being careful to avoid the many cuts and bruises, and tucked it behind her ear. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, feeling reassured by its warmth. "Stay with me, Donatella."


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it has been so long since I updated. I got busy with other things. But so many people commented asking for more that I decided to try to keep writing. Without further ado, I give you the next chapter. **

Josh's didn't remember falling asleep. He remembered sitting in that chair next to her bed not daring to close his eyes. He remembered a nurse coming in to change the IV bag and check something on a monitor. He remembered watching President Bartlett give a speech about the Gaza tragedy on an international news channel. He remembered someone offering to bring a cot for him to sleep on, which he declined, since he had no intention of sleeping. And the next thing he knew he waking up to sunlight on his face.

He opened his eye to see a young black nurse opening the curtains at the window. "Did you sleep like that?" she asked. Josh was half sitting in the chair, half sprawled across Donna's bed. He was used to sleeping at his desk, and this wasn't much different, except the bed was softer, warmer, and . . . you know. . . had a woman sleeping in it. He suddenly became aware that his hand was wrapped protectively around Donna's.

"Huh?" he realized the nurse was still looking at him expectantly.

"I said did you sleep like that?"

"Guess so," he yawned. Josh carefully extracted his hand from Donna's and stretched.

"You her boyfriend?"

"Her boss," he answered, resisting the urge to expound upon the idiotic string of boyfriends Donna Moss had paraded in front of him over the past seven years. "You guys got coffee here?"

She gave him a look that clearly said she didn't believe him, before answering, "There's a cafeteria downstairs."

Josh pulled out his cellphone as he stepped into the hallway, checking for service. He thought about calling Toby or CJ before realizing he was 6 hours ahead of them. It was still the middle of the night in Washington. He would give it a couple more hours.

After a quick stop to use the restroom and splash some water on his face he ordered a large coffee to go and returned to Donna's room, hoping to catch an update about the bombing. There wasn't anything that he hadn't already heard, but he left the TV on for background noise.

Josh threw his empty coffee cup away and sat back down in his chair. He opened his laptop to catch up on his email, but soon found his mind wandering. He became lost in thought about his job, and the Gaza attack, and the mess he was going to go home to. But mostly he thought about Donna.

He remembered that first day she had walked into the campaign office and appointed herself his assistant.

"Look, I think I can be good at this. I think you might find me valuable."

Valuable didn't even scratch the surface. By the end of the campaign she had picked up on his littlest habits and personality quirks to the point that she could practically read his mind.

He hadn't even realized how dependent he had become on her until she decided to quit and go back to Dr. Free-ride. Those weeks without her had been hell. He told himself it was just because he had gotten used to her, that he missed having an assistant, but the little voice in the back of his mind told him it was more than that.

He remembered a few years back how she had pestered him to ask out Joey Lucas. He figured that was just Donna being Donna, until Joey suggested that it was simply because Donna liked him and was trying to cover her feelings with misdirection. Well, that was just ridiculous. Wasn't it? Josh didn't have a lot of experience with women but felt confident he would have known if Donna had liked him. He assured Joey Lucas that she was wrong and had tried to forget the whole thing.

Josh thought about the long hours they spent working together late into the night over the years. How he had made her cancel plans - even dates - to help him finish up something or other that seemed important at the time. He remembered how she had gone above and beyond the call of duty when he had been bedridden after being shot. He thought of his self appointed tradition of sending her flowers in April to celebrate the day her scumbag boyfriend had dumped her for the second time and she had come back to work for him permanently - although he later found out she had been the one to dump him after he had stopped for a beer on the way to the hospital after her car accident. And he remembered how hard it had been on both of them when he had to send her away during the Shutdown last year.

Why had she stayed on as his assistant for all these years, earning barely enough to get by. She could have left at any time, found a better job - one that paid better - but she chose to stay. What did that prove? Josh shook his head. He was acting like an eighth grader. So what if she did like him? She worked for him, worked for the President. It wasn't like he could do anything about it even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. Did he?

He looked at her broken, delicate form asleep in the bed. She was so beautiful. But it was more than that. She was . . . Donna. He thought back on his conversation with Sam. Suddenly he wasn't sure of anything.

It wasn't long before the nurse was back to check the IV bag. As she leaned in to change the bag, Josh heard Donna stir. The nurse must have noticed it, too.

"Hi there. You just wake up?" she asked.

"My mouth is dry."

Josh's jaw dropped as a strange new mixture of worry and relief washed over him. Even though the nurse was blocking his view of her, he knew that voice. He sat up rigid in his chair, suddenly and inexplicably petrified.

"Lemme get you some water," the nurse replied, as she stepped away from the bed.

Josh just stared at her, open-mouthed. Finally he rose to his feet, still unblinking. He studied her face with anticipation.

"Hey," he said slowly, cautiously.

"What happened to you?" She barely moved her mouth as she spoke.

"To . . . to me?" Josh was confused.

"You need to shave."

There was an urgency in her voice that made Josh want to laugh. That was such a Donna thing to say.

"I haven't . . . really had time . . ." he stammered, still confused but trying to explain. But Donna had already moved on.

"Ugh. Where am I?"

"You're in Germany." He made a point of speaking loud and clear, making sure she understood.

Her eyes opened a little wider and she looked around. "It doesn't look like Germany."

Josh started to explain about the Military Hospital but was interrupted by the nurse bringing Donna a cup of water with a bendy straw.

"She's not German" Donna observed, referring to the nurse who had brought the water. Josh quickly reached out to help Donna hold the cup and put the straw in her mouth.

"This is true," the nurse laughed. "Just squeeze that clicker if it hurts. It's a morphine drip. It's gonna take some time to orient yourself."

"He needs to shave," Donna said to the nurse, looking at Josh.

Josh still hadn't taken his eyes off of her. He placed the cup on the nightstand.

"Couldn't hurt," he heard the nurse say. "I'm just gonna draw some blood."

Donna closed her eyes again, looking uneasy, as the nurse pulled out a syringe. Josh felt his own stomach clench painfully at the mention of blood, but was determined not to leave her side, not now that she was finally awake. He swallowed convulsively, feeling his own blood drain from his face, and averted his eyes. The nurse noticed.

"If you need to step outside . . . ?" she said, as Josh's face paled.

"I'm fine." Josh knew he sounded squeamish, but it was the best he could manage. He tried to act more confident that he felt. He looked back at Donna, trying to concentrate on her and only her. He tightened his grip on the bed rail.

The nurse inserted the syringe into a port near Donna's chest and began to draw the plunger back. At the first sign of the thick, dark red liquid, he realized what a bad idea this had been. He wanted to stay with Donna, wanted to prove to her that he was there for her, but he doubted she would be very impressed if he passed out at the sight of blood. He tried to fight the nausea that was exploding in his stomach, but knew he was only seconds away from losing what little control he had. He closed his eyes and quickly turned away, muttering "I-I'll be right back."


	6. Chapter 6

Josh turned off the faucet in the men's room and dried his face with a paper towel. He looked at his reflection in the mirror above the sink and exhaled deeply. A tired, pale reflection with short, unkempt hair stared back. His nerves were already raw from the guilt and worry he'd been feeling ever since he'd first received the news about the explosion. Add to that the fatigue from the jet lag, the seemingly constant sound of sirens coming and going from the hospital, and the sterile medical smell that had been assaulting his senses nonstop since he'd arrived in Germany. . . seeing her blood was apparently just more than his delicate system could handle. Josh closed his eyes and waited for another wave of nausea to pass, pressing a wet paper towel to the back of his neck.

Once he was confident the worst of the queasiness was gone he exited the restroom. He started back toward Donna's room but paused, thinking better of it. He wasn't quite ready to face that yet. What he needed was a distraction, something to get his mind off Donna and the blood and the hospital smells. He considered calling Dr. Stanley Keyworth, the therapist he had worked with after his shooting, but dialed Toby Ziegler's number instead.

He was relieved when Toby picked up and even more relieved when he heard himself speak without his voice shaking. Josh wandered the halls of the hospital as they spoke. They talked about the public's reaction to the President's speech and about an upcoming baseball game where the President was scheduled to throw there first pitch, but they both realized there were very few subjects they could discuss on an unsecure phone line. Still, the brief conversation had worked. It calmed Josh's nerves and provided a much needed distraction. Hanging up his phone, he walked back to Donna's room.

Donna was sleeping again when he arrived, but that was probably for the best. Her body needed sleep. Sleep and time. He knew this from personal experience. Stepping into the hallway again, he dialed the number for Donna's mother.

She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Moss? This is Josh Lyman, again. Donna's boss."

"Josh! How is she? Have you gotten any updates? Is she going to be okay? I'm trying to get a flight to Germany but -"

"Mrs. Moss, I'm with Donna now." It was amazing how much Donna's mother sounded like her daughter on the phone. "She has a punctured lung and a broken leg but the doctors were able to fix both of those things. Mostly just cuts and bruises. She's sleeping now but she's going to be just fine."

There was a long pause before a surprised voice asked "Josh, where are you? Are you in . . . Germany?!"

"Yeah." Why were people so shocked by that?

"You're with her?"

"Yeah."

"And she's gonna be okay?"

"She's going to be just fine, Mrs. Moss."

Josh waited as he heard the information being passed along to Donna's father, who also sounded relieved.

"Josh, when she wakes up tell her I am taking the Red Eye out of New York tonight and I will be there in the morning."

"Sure. I'll let you and Mr. Moss know if anything changes before then."

"And Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. I'm glad you're with her. Donna speaks very highly of you, you know. I'm sure you have a lot of important things you should be doing, but . . . "

"Don't worry about it." Josh reassured her. "The federal government can live without me for a few days. This is where I need to be right now. Have a safe flight and we'll see you in a few hours."

In the afternoon a nurse brought in a lunch tray for Donna and checked her vitals. She reassured Josh that it was normal for someone who had experienced the type of trauma Donna had been through to sleep for long periods of time. Even though Josh understood this, he was still bored after hours of sitting alone watching CNN and was relieved when he finally heard her stirring.

"What are you watching?" asked a sleepy voice.

"Nothing." The truth was he had been watching coverage of a tour-bus bombing in Jerusalem, but she didn't need to know that. He quickly turned the TV off.

"How do you feel?"

She moved slightly, testing her sore muscles, but didn't answer.

"They left a lunch tray earlier" he said, standing and walking over to her bed.

"I'm not hungry."

"German chocolate cake?" He held up the seran-wrapped plate. It was funny because they were in Germany and it was German chocolate, but somehow he doubted she saw the humor in it. Or even cared what kind of cake it was.

"Really I'm kinda nauseous."

"Okay." He put the cake down. He understood nausea.

"Your mom's on the way to New York. She's gonna take the Red Eye tonight." Josh said, quickly changing the subject.

"How long are you staying?" Donna asked.

"I don't know. Figure if I hang around long enough one of the nurses is bound to give me a sponge bath." He smiled attempting to lighten the mood.

She closed her eyes. "Leo doesn't need you to -"

"I'm here as long as I need to be here."

Their eyes finally met in understanding. His statement and all of its unspoken implications hung in the air as the moment stretched into awkward silence.

He finally looked away, searching for anything to change the subject. "You want Jello?"

She cringed.

Just then Josh's phone rang.

"I don't want to talk to anybody." Donna said weakly.

"Okay." He quietly reassured her before answering. "Hey, CJ."

"How is she?" Asked a severe voice on the other end.

"She's fine. She was singing tunes from My Fair Lady earlier but I think that was just the morphine." He looked at Donna to see if she found him funny, but her eyes were closed again.

"Can I talk to her?"

"We're actually at intermission right now." He walked toward the door, giving Donna some space.

"But she really is all right?"

"I'm tellin' ya, she was doing this whole Julie Andrews thing. . ." Josh stepped into the hallway.

This seemed to satisfy CJ because she moved on. "Have you seen the news?"

Just then a tall stranger carrying a knapsack and a huge bouquet of flowers approached Donna's door. He wore a faded dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and khaki pants. His hair was cut short and looked clean and tidy, but he had a certain artistic-outdoorsy look about him.

"Donna Moss?" he asked, motioning toward her room. He had a slight accent that Josh couldn't quite place. Perfect.

Josh was too stunned to answer at first but finally managed an "Uh-huh," which served as an answer to both CJ's and the stranger's questions. Who was this guy and how did he know Donna?

Josh was only half listening to CJ as he watched the stranger approach Donna's bed.

"You need to come out fighting." He vaguely recalled CJ asking him a question and he hoped he was answering it. Or was he merely advising himself on his current situation? Something about this new guy in Donna's room was making him feel strangely competitive. "Leak a force depletion report and blueprints for the invasion."

Donna's face lit up as the man placed the bouquet at the foot of her bed and flirtatiously tapped the toe of her elevated foot.

"Invasion?" CJ sounded confused. As she should. Josh wasn't even sure what he was talking about. He was too distracted by the scene playing out in front of him in Donna's room.

"Okay, that may be a little . . . "

He trailed off as the handsome stranger leaned in and kissed Donna deeply and tenderly on the mouth.

"Josh?" He was vaguely aware that CJ was still on the phone.

Donna was kissing him back.

"Josh?"


	7. Chapter 7

Jealousy. No, not Jealousy. Josh wasn't the jealous type, especially when it came to Donna. Why would he be? She was just his assistant. His receptionist. No, he wasn't jealous. He was simply . . . surprised. Yes, that sounded right.

"Josh? Are you still there?" He had completely forgotten about CJ.

"Huh? Yeah. I'm here." He finally managed to rip his eyes away from the intimate reunion taking place in Donna's hospital room and returned to the conversation. He started walking down the hall toward the lobby. "What were you saying?"

"I was asking you about -"

"Yeah. Listen, CJ," Josh cut her off mid sentence. "Did Donna say anything to you about a guy?"

"Donna? Why? Did something happen with a guy?" CJ asked, sounding excited.

"No. Some guy with flowers just . . ." Josh hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should say.

"Is this about the photographer?"

"Photographer?" Josh couldn't remember seeing a camera.

"Yeah. Colin, the photojounalist who was showing her around Gaza."

"When did this happen?" Josh vaguely remember reading something about a photographer in her e-mails, but he had pictured him being shorter and balder and less . . . manly.

"What do you mean? She met him in Gaza. Is he there at the hospital?!"

"Looks like it. CJ, you should see this guy with his humongous flowers and his foreign charm. And who knows where those lips have been. She's in the hospital, you know! Is that even hygienic? He's probably giving her all sorts of -"

"Woah, boy. Slow down there, crazy."

"Sorry." Josh took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" CJ asked.

"Jealousy?" Josh answered quickly. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Well, Joshua," CJ sounded exasperated, "What did you think was going to happen? Donna is a single woman in her prime. She met a handsome photojournalist who offered to giver her a tour of the city. Did you honestly think that tour wouldn't include his bedroom?"

"Maybe. Yeah." Josh hadn't given it much thought until now. He had watched Donna go out with dozens of men over the years, none of which Josh approved of. But he made it a point to never think about exactly what those dates entailed. He told himself it was none of his business. But that was before she had been nearly killed. Before everything changed. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Well, I got news for ya. If he's half as good-looking as Donna made him sound in her e-mails I would have skipped the tour and gone straight for the bedroom, if you know what I'm sayin'. Is he?"

"Is he what?"

"Good-looking?"

"Don't you have some important press release to get ready for?" Josh tried to sound irritated. This was not where he wanted this conversation to go.

"Okay. But have Donna give me a call when she feels up to it."

Josh didn't say anything.

"And Josh," CJ hesitated. " I say this as your friend and as a woman: Either tell her how you feel, or quit getting jealous whenever any other man shows her any attention."

"CJ, I don't get jeal-"

"Goodbye, Joshua."

"Bye"

He hung up and went back to Donna's room, but the photojournalist was still sitting next to her bed. As much as Josh instantly disliked him, it was hard to begrudge his presence when Donna looked so vibrant - so alive - talking to him. It was the happiest Josh had seen her since she had woken up. Josh quietly pulled the door closed and leaned against the wall in the hallway, looking at his watch.

_Either tell her how you feel or quit getting jealous whenever any other man shows her any attention. _

What was that supposed to mean? Tell her how you feel? How did he feel? He felt scared. He felt sleep deprived and sick. For some reason he felt extremely frustrated. How would telling Donna any of that do either of them any good? Still, he had to admit that just being here - being near her - made that fear and guilt and frustration fade, if only slightly.

But - he reminded himself - he wasn't jealous! He knew what they were all thinking - Sam and CJ and the nurses. They were wrong. He was only here because he was the one who had put her in harm's way and now he was trying to make up for it. Any of them would have done the same if it had been their assistants in that SUV. But a little voice in the back of Josh's mind knew that wasn't true, knew that the relationship he and Donna had was . . . special. It went beyond the bounds of being simply professional. She had taken care of him - practically moved in with him - after he had been shot. And he knew details about her life that were reserved for close friends and family members. With as much time as they spent together it was inevitable. And right now she needed him as much as he needed her.

Josh shook his head and looked at his watch again. What did it matter anyway? Now she had the photographer to keep her company. It gave Josh time to think about more important things, work things. He decided to grab some dinner and try to get some work done.

Several unproductive hours later Josh returned to Donna's room to catch the end of Palestinian Prime Minister Mukarat's address on TV. The Prime Minister was condemning the act of aggression and asking the leaders of the world to seek for a peaceful solution.

"They do get it, you know." Colin, the photographer, said, once the speech had ended. He spoke with what Josh now recognized as an Irish accent. "Despite the rhetoric. The Palestinians realize if they've got any chance at real peace it's with you guys as brokers. Be a shame to see that blown."

Colin put on his jacket and picked up his bag. Josh couldn't think of anything diplomatic to say so he changed the subject.

"So, you two spend a lot of time together?" he asked offhandedly.

"Uh . . . some." Colin answered, sounding slightly uncomfortable as he looked from Donna - who was still sleeping - to Josh.

"Pretty long flight from Gaza to Germany." Josh pointed out.

"Not really. It's nothing compared to the flight from DC." Colin looked at Josh with suspicion. He hesitated, before adding, "Look, she didn't mention . . . anything. If this is going to be an issue, then . . ."

"No." Josh said quickly. "No issue." What else could Josh say? He had no reason, really, to make it an issue. And even if he had wanted to . . .

A soft moaning came from Donna's bed. Both men turned in alarm. Colin was at her side in an instant. "You alright?"

"Where's the . . ." Donna started moving around, looking for something.

"The what?" Josh asked, although he stood back with his arms folded, as Colin was already attending to her.

"The Morphine?" Donna asked, as Colin placed the clicker in her hand. She clicked it several times. As her eyes found Colin's face, she started to relax, although she continued to squeeze the clicker several more time.

"I think it only works the first time," Josh said awkwardly referring to the morphine clicker. He wished he could be anywhere but here.

Donna didn't even seem to notice. She noticed Colin's jacket and bag. "You're leaving."

"Yeah." Colin said, leaning in to kiss her. "Yeah, just for a little bit."

Josh turned away from what was sure to be a sickeningly romantic goodbye scene. He wanted to roll his eyes as he heard Colin whisper dramatically, "But I shall return before first light. Don't go anywhere."

Josh tried to focus on the tv, tried to act like he wasn't paying attention, but turned back a little too quickly as Colin bid him farewell. "Nice to meet you," Josh said, in what he hoped was a casual tone. He couldn't help but smirk as Colin finally left the room.

There was a moment of silence following Colin's departure in which Josh couldn't quite meet Donna's eyes. He looked at the ground and shuffled his feet as he tried to compose himself and stop smirking.

"Isn't he charming?" Donna asked in a dreamy voice.

"Sure, in a bodice-ripping, heathcliff-on-the-moore, I'm-too-sexy-for-my-camera sorta way." Josh couldn't help himself.

"Josh . . ." she scolded, turning away and closing her eyes, sounding embarrassed.

They were spared any further awkward small talk by the sudden arrival of another bouquet of exotic looking flowers.

"More admirers," Josh said as he took them from the nurse, looking for a card.

"Really?" She sounded mildly curious.

"How many photographers did you meet over there?" Josh teased as he set the flowers next to her bed.

"Who are they from?" Donna didn't sound amused at his joke.

Josh pulled out the card and read it. Then flipped it over. There was something that looked like Arabic on the other side. "K, this is sorta weird."

"What?" Donna tried to sit up, looking more interested.

Josh read the English side aloud. "Wishes for a speedy recovery. Father of the Baker, Father of the Light, Son of the Sword."

"Let me see." Donna reached up and Josh handed her the card. She examined both sides.

"You sure you don't know someone named Father of the Baker?" Josh tried to lighten the mood.

Donna just shook her head, handing the card back to Josh. "Is that Arabic?" She looked worried.

"Don't worry." he reassured her. "I'm sure it's nothing. I'll just give Leo a call and be right back."

He hesitated before reaching down to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Try to get some rest."

He let his hand linger on her face for just a moment as he searched her eyes. He couldn't help thinking about what CJ had told him. Then he turned away, reaching in his pocket for his phone to keep his hands from shaking as he left the room.


End file.
